


Alone Together

by Redbird225



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 09:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16678867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redbird225/pseuds/Redbird225
Summary: Set prior to 8x06 “Return to Murder House”. Ben and Tate have their therapy sessions together since Vivian and Violet and have both shut them out. Unable to talk to the women they love, they find another outlet.





	Alone Together

Everyday is a routine. The same thing over and over again. There’s not much variation for the dead confined to a home with several other dozen spirits for all eternity. Ben Harmon came to this cursed house with his family to start over. To repair what he had broken after his infidelity. And yet, his family was worse off than before. Not only were they all dead, he was shut out. His own wanted nothing to do with him. That didn’t leave him with many options. Moira was a no go after all her past attempts to seduce him. Beau was a good distraction and always eager to play but made for poor conversation. The Montgomery’s were just insane. God forbid he ever converse with Constance. Chad would never let him get a word in and Patrick, well Patrick wanted to use his mouth in a different way. Ben took him up on the offer once, but ended up feeling more guilty than ever. So that left Tate.

He should hate him. Tate ruined their lives. Raped his wife, seduced his daughter and got them all killed. Yet, Ben hates himself more. If it wasn’t for him they would have never been in those positions in the first place. Violet may have shut him out, but not Ben. No, Ben observer from a far. After the birth of Michael, Tate was…different. It’s as if all the bad aspects of him drained away as soon as that baby was born. Soon enough, Michael began to grow up and exhibit personality traits so evil they surpassed Tate’s. Maybe Michael was the evil that haunted Tate. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for the boy yet. And maybe Ben could bring that hope out. 

“Thank you for agreeing to see me Doctor Harmon” Tate said as he nervously sat across from the older man.  
“Yeah, well, it’s not like my schedule is filled with patients.”  
The two sat in the room facing each other in silence, unsure of what to say next.   
“I just wanted to say how sorry I am. I never wanted any of this. I love Violet and I always will. It was just this…darkness inside of me. Uncontrollable rage and hate that was eating me alive. It felt so…evil. I was evil. I did horrible, horrible things” Tate began to sob, unable to choke out the words. Yet Ben knew exactly what he was saying. What he felt. He could see in this boy's eyes that he was different. That way he carried himself, the way he spoke. It wasn’t evil or dark. He was nothing more than a broken man filled with guilt and self-hatred. A look he had seen in the mirror everyday for the last few years.

Tate composed himself and wiped the tears from his eyes.  
“I can’t take any of them back. Not the shooting or Larry or what I did to Vivian. Believe me I so desperately want to. Everyday I feel this, this guilt just crushing me. Things are different. Ever since Vivian died in labor I’ve felt different. I don’t feel that darkness or that rage I just feel…lonely. Guilty. I don’t hate others I hate myself for what I did. God, all those people I hurt. Do you know what it’s like to look in the mirror and be disgusted by the thing you see staring back at you?”  
Ben’s heart skipped a beat. Tate was just like him. It would be easy to hate him for what he’s done in the past, but that’s not him anymore. They were just two men trying to move on from their past. 

Tate began to sob uncontrollably. Ben’s instinctively and hesitantly stood up and walked across the room. He slowly sat down next to the boy and placed his hand on his shoulder. Tate flung his arms around Ben’s neck and began to sob into his chest, repeating “I’m so sorry” over and over again into his shirt. Ben wrapped his arm around Tate and patted him on the back. After a few minutes, he finally managed to choke out three words “I forgive you.” 

Tate ceased his sobbing and looked up at Ben. “Really?”  
Ben nodded and Tate began to thank him, crying tears of joy and attempting to wipe his tears of his face. But he could not hide his relief. It’s as a weight lifted off his shoulders and he could finally breathe. He continued to thank the man over and over again hugged him tighter than before, nearly knocking them both of the couch. As he pulled away, Tate brushed his lips against his without even thinking. Ben pulled away in shock as Tate met his eyes. It was shocking, yet electrifying. Oddly it was…comforting. 

Tate’s eyes wandered from his eyes to his lips and he leaned in, closing the gap between them. Their lips met as Tate wrapped his arms around Ben’s neck. He placed his hands on the boys hips and pulled him closer as they began to kiss passionately and feverishly. Tate was obviously inexperienced, having only likely kissed one girl his whole life. Violet. Suddenly, Ben pulled away at the thought of his daughter. 

Tate looked concerned as his flustered therapist abruptly stood up.   
“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, his eyes full of sadness and confusion. Afraid that this would cause him to regress, Ben reassured the boy.  
“No no it’s not you. I did.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Ben sighed and rubbed his eyes.  
“The session is over Tate. I think you should go.”   
Tate stood up and stormed out, tears once again welling up in his eyes as the feeling that he screwed up his one chance at redemption sinks in.

Everyday is a routine. The same thing over and over again. There’s not much variation for the dead confined to a home with several other dozen spirits for all eternity. Everyday, Ben Harmon stands by the window and gazes his out. Everyday, he palms his cock and cums on the table. And everyday, he sobs as he finishes. Ben Harmon came to this cursed house with his family to start over. To repair what he had broken after his infidelity. And yet, his family was worse off than before. Not only were they all dead, he was shut out. His own wanted nothing to do with him. But someone did. Tate.

Today was different. As he stood by the window, palming his cock, he thought of Tate. The taste of his lips. His arms wrapped around his neck. His hitched breath as Ben places his hands on his hips. The sense of urgency. Of passionate. Of need. As he cums, Ben is shocked to find that no tears have fallen. Instead, he found only release.


End file.
